


Falling for You (Was as Easy as Breathing)

by lavenderlotion



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Bisexual Sheriff Stilinski, Blushing, Cheek Kisses, First Dates, First Time Blow Jobs, Flirting, Flowers, Fluff and Smut, Flustered Jordan Parrish, Flustered Sheriff Stilinski, Hand Jobs, Jordan Parrish has Dimples, M/M, Making Out, Old-Fashioned, Peter Hale is a Little Shit, Sheriff Stilinski Knows, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Shower Sex, Stiles Stilinski is a Little Shit, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Unexpected Daddy Kink, hand-holding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-10
Updated: 2018-08-24
Packaged: 2019-06-25 09:21:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15637809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavenderlotion/pseuds/lavenderlotion
Summary: He was so gorgeous, and he was sitting in John’s lap, fingers linked together behind John’s neck. John had to bite down on his tongue to keep in an admittance neither of them was ready for.“Jo,” he choked out, his voice a deep, gravelly thing. Jordan’s eyes slipped open, bright and clear and beautiful. “Kiss me? Please, baby, I need you to kiss me.”





	1. Chapter 1

John was tired. He was tired often, recently, ever since Stiles had left. The house was too quiet without someone else in it, too large now that it was just him. John spent as little time at home as possible now that it was a constant reminder of how alone he was, and sleeping for more than a few hours at a time was becoming rarer and rarer.

He couldn't begrudge Stiles for going away to college. After the hell his son had lived through during high school, he couldn't stop Stiles from leaving. He was too glad Stiles was getting out, protecting himself, to put up any kind of protest. Besides, his kid was bright, a fucking _genius_ , and he would have never forgiven himself if he somehow held Stiles back.

Still, a small, selfish part of him had wished for Stiles to stay close.

It had been just the two of them for so long, and despite the short time when Stiles had hidden the supernatural from him they had always been close. Only being able to see his son through a video screen tugged at his heart, and hearing his son's voice through the cackle of their cellphones wasn't the same as hearing him ramble in person.

And so John worked, more than he had in _years_. He may be working too much, he'd admit, but it kept him out of the house and his mind from thinking of how lonely he still felt. His body ached from the number of nights he’d slept on the couch in his office, but it was better than spending the whole night awake, kept up by the silence of his empty home.

He could tell that some of his deputies were worried, but the older ones, the ones who had been around for the aftermath of Claudia’s passing, were nothing but supportive. A few of them knew what it was like to have to see your kids off, but they all had the support of their spouses to go home to.

John didn't, and he didn't see the point in going home now that there was no one there to spend time with. He knew that Stiles was getting worried—John had never been able to hide anything from his son, and this was no different—but he was having such a good time at college, growing into himself more and more, that John made sure he didn't know the extent of John's loneliness.

Besides, he had his work and he had his deputies. When he needed it, he had Argent and Hale to spend time with. He had never expected to get along with either of them, but it was easy spending time in their presence. John didn't have to pretend that he knew nothing about what went bump in the night, and they all knew a thing about grief.

John was fine. He was lonely and he spent too much time at work and he missed his son, but he was fine. He wasn't drinking, which was a hell of a lot better than he had once been.

A knock on his office door startled him out of his thoughts, and he smiled when he saw Parrish leaning against his door frame.

“Hey, Sheriff,” Parrish said, stuffing a hand into the pocket of his jeans.

“I've told to call me John,” he said, doing his best to ignore the twisting in his stomach. He wasn't some teenager with a crush, and it wouldn't do to entertain thoughts of his deputy.

“Only if you call me Jordan,” Parrish gave back, and John couldn't help the smile.

“Will do, Jordan,” he had only insisted on calling the deputy by his last name to keep some sort of professional distance between them, but John liked the way Jordan said his name too much to stick firm to his own rules.

John watched Jordan's cheeks tint pink, and he fought down the bite of arousal he felt.

“So, what are you still doing here?” John asked, nodding his head to the bag Jordan had slung over his shoulder.

“I'm on my way out actually,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. John knew him well enough to see it for the nervous tick it was, and he wasn't sure what to make of that.

“Well?” John asked, raising a brow and putting on his best interrogation face, and he was surprised when his blush deepened.

“So, uh. I was talking to Stiles—” Jordan told him, looking at the ground.

“You talk to my son?” John asked, because that was sure news to him. Stiles hadn't once mentioned Jordan in any of their many calls or text conversations, and his deputy hadn't mentioned anything either.

“Yes, sir—er, John,” Jordan corrected, taking a deep breath. “We're...friends?”

“You don't sound so sure about that.”

“Right. Sorry. We're friends. Stiles really helped me come to terms with who, with _what_ , I am,” John nodded, a small smile pulling at his lips. Of course his son would have befriended Jordan when he had been floundering to figure out what he was.

“Alright, and what has my son done this time?” John asked, and while he meant it as a joke, the nervous look Jordan sent him made _him_ nervous.

“Oh. Oh, well. You see he, and well, he—” Jordan trailed off, scratching at the back of his neck. It caused his t-shirt to stretch across his chest, and John had to drop his eyes to keep from staring. “You see, he asked me to. Well really he _told_ me to—that I had to, and he said—”

“Spit it out,” John said, annoyed with himself for the turn his thoughts had taken and trying to get his mind back on track. Staring at his deputy was not appropriate behaviour.

“Stiles thinks you're lonely and made me promise to take you to dinner,” Jordan said in a rush, his face flushing even further as he got the words out.

John stared at him for a moment, his mind turning the sentence over. He’d known Stiles was getting worried—could hear it all the things his son didn’t say—but he hadn’t known Stiles was worried enough to do something like this. “And you went along with it because...?”

“He can be quite...convincing,” Jordan said, but then quieter, “and I maybe, possibly, already wanted to ask you out.”

John let out a long, deep sigh at his son’s antics, but he quirked a smile at Jordan. He ignored the rising heat in his own cheeks, letting himself look over Jordan in a way he had always wanted to but never allowed himself. “When should I pick you up?”

Jordan's entire demeanour changed, his eyes going wide even as his face broke out into a breathtaking smile. “Six? We could do dinner at the diner Stiles doesn't let you order from, and I promise I won't tell him.”

“Alright, I'll see you then,” John said, and he couldn't help his own smile, not when Jordan was beaming at him like that.

He waited until Jordan walked away before slumping back into his seat, letting out a long breath of air. God, what had he gotten himself into.

* * *

_To Kiddo (3:47 p.m): Did you bully my deputy into asking me on a date?_

_From Kiddo (3:56 p.m): youre welcome, daddio_

_To Kiddo (3:56 p.m): What am I going to do with you?_

* * *

John was nervous. He barely remembered the drive home, and the last few hours of work were a mystery to him. He had been a mess of jumbled nerves, anxious and excited in equal measure, and he hadn't been able to focus in his office. Eventually he had just left, recognizing that he wouldn't be getting any more work done for the day. His mind wouldn't stop replaying the same few words, over and over again.

He was going on a date.

That was something John had long ago given up on. Claudia had been the love of his damn life and he had been devastated when she passed. He couldn't look at another woman the same way, not without guilt climbing up his throat. No one would be able to measure up to her, not in his eyes, and so he had never tried looking for someone.

On top of that, dating had never really been an option. He had always been busy, both with his job and with raising Stiles on his own, and he had no interest in adding dating to that. John was alright as he was and if he got lonely sometimes, well he had Stiles, and his son was more than a handful, especially as he got older. He had never felt like he was _missing_ anything, and he had been content enough on his own.

So he had never looked and he had never dated, and now, John felt wildly unprepared. He was going to pick Jordan up, but he—he had no idea what to do from there, no idea what to expect. John felt lost, helplessly so, and it had completely destroyed his concentration. He had driven home thinking of nothing but what all could go wrong.

Hell, John was in his _forties_ and Jordan was barely in his mid-twenties—was John's _deputy_. There were so many reasons this was a bad idea, why it wouldn't work out between the two of them. What could he possibly offer someone like Jordan, who was still so young and so bright?

Jordan had so many years ahead of him still, so many things to still do with his life. John was...John wasn’t going to be doing anything else with his. He’d work as the Sheriff until he couldn't anymore and then he would retire—but Jordan was only twenty-four. Fuck, he was only a handful of years older than his own son.

But John was a man of his word, or at least he tried to be, and he wasn't going to back out after he had already agreed. He had to pick Jordan up in—shit, an hour. That felt far too soon with all that he still had to do. All he could think about was how badly the night could go and how awkward things could be at work, since he had agreed to go on a date with his deputy—which god, was such a horrible idea.

He needed to stop freaking out.

There was no way John could cancel now. Not only had he already told Jordan yes, but he was more than just a little excited for the date, himself. Despite all that could go wrong, there was a small, tentative voice inside his head that was telling him to think positive. The fact that that voice sounded a lot like his son was neither here nor there, and he forced himself up the stairs once he got home.

He groaned as he stripped down, and his kept his shower quick. He had considered shaving but his jaw was only covered in a fine layering of stubble. It wasn't even enough for him to shape up into a beard, and he let it be. Stiles had once told him that it looked good on him, and he only hoped that it was true.

Walking into his bedroom, he was already mentally going through his entire closet and beginning to freak out over how he had nothing to wear. He felt ridiculous worrying this much about what he was going to wear, but he—

“Hale, what the hell are you doing in my bedroom?” John demanded, gripping the knot of the towel even as he fought the urge to cover himself, his heart all but beating out his chest.

“Oh well hello, Sheriff,” Peter said, raking his eyes over John's body in a way that he did not appreciate. He set his shoulders, trying to figure out if he'd be able to reach the bottle of mountain ash on his dresser before Peter would be able to stop him.

“What the hell are you doing here?” John asked again, his nerves making his irritation worse.

“Stiles was worried that you would be freaking out, and when you didn't answer the phone, he insisted I run over here to check on you,” Peter said, sweeping his arms out in a _'and here I am'_ gesture, before he settled onto the edge of John's bed.

“Right, and why exactly would my son be asking you to do anything?” John used his best interrogation voice, though he walked over to his closest.

Peter and his son had gotten close after the horrible months of possession Stiles went through. John could tell that Stiles' friends had pulled away from him, with how much time he either spent at home or with him at the station. He hadn't known what to do to help, asides from being there, and he had been floundering when Peter began coming around.

John could hold his son as he screamed himself awake from nightmares, he could hold him close whenever Stiles needed affection, he could work less and be there more, but he—he couldn't do anything to help Stiles _heal_.

It was Peter who found someone in the know for Stiles to talk to, Peter who got his son out of the house and Peter who distracted him with this or that. John could love Stiles with all his heart but Peter had been the one to really help, the one who had helped Stiles start healing, and for that, John would always be thankful.

He still didn't have to like that they appeared to be together.

“Considering he isn't able to come and calm you down himself, he must have figured you would appreciate my assistance,” Peter told him, and John hummed.

“And it's not at all because you're dating my son is it?” he asked, pulling down a green henley. He didn't have much of a wardrobe—he had no need for it, wearing a uniform five, sometimes six days a week, and it had always been more important to buy clothing for Stiles.

“Oh I assure you, Sheriff, there is nothing untoward going on between Stiles and myself,” Peter told him, though there was a shortness to his voice that John didn't miss.

“But you want there to be,” John said, smirking when Peter's shoulders went tense. “He'd say yes, if you asked him.”

Peter just hummed, though he did finally look away. John continued getting dressed, ignoring Peter's presence and pulling on a pair of jeans after he’d slipped on underwear. If the other man had something to say, he would say it, and John would wait while he thought.

“I am supposed to approve your outfit,” Peter said once John was finished dressing and putting on his watch.

He hesitated, staring down at his hand for several long, quiet moments, before he pulled off his wedding band.

“Oh for god's sake,” John grumbled, Peter’s words finally registering. He turned around, holding his arms out for Peter's 'approval'.

“Very nice, Sheriff,” Peter said, his usual self-satisfied smirk back on his face.

John snorted, though he gave Peter a nod. He only had about ten minutes left before he had to leave, but the back and forth with Peter had done an excellent job at distracting John from how nervous he still felt. He sent the wolf a smile in thanks, getting a nod before Peter jumped out the window.

The damn drama queen.

John took a deep breath before he went downstairs, pulling on a pair of sneakers. He felt underdressed, and he had to remind himself that they were just going to a small, quiet diner and that there was no reason for him to dress up. At least he wasn't wearing one of his BHSD shirts.

With a start, John realized that the only vehicle he had was his cruiser. Having another car was an expense he cut out the moment Stiles showed interest in driving his mother’s jeep. They couldn't afford to have two cars, and it was more important for Stiles to have his own than for John to have a personal vehicle. As long as he worked for the station he could use the cruiser as much as he wanted, and no one said anything.

He was tempted to go back upstairs, to call Jordan and just cancel, but he...he couldn't bring himself to do it. He was too excited for what the night could be, to give up. Hell, he _liked_ Jordan, and John was more interested in him than he had been in anyone for years. It didn't matter what they had going against them, or all the things John had going against him. He wanted this, and he wanted to at least give it a try.

He grabbed his keys from the front table, giving himself one last minute of indecision before he walked out the door. It was time he let himself have something that was solely to make him happy. John had no idea if it was going to go anywhere, or if the night itself was going to go well, but he owed it to himself to try.


	2. Chapter 2

The drive to Jordan’s apartment was shorter than he had expected. Of course, he knew how close they lived to one another, but actually making the five-minute drive was different. He tried not to let his thoughts wander, tried to stop himself from thinking of all the things that living so close to each other could mean for the future. John didn't want to get his own hopes up.

When he finally parked outside Jordan's apartment, he spent several minutes debating on going to buildings front door or not. However, he had no idea which apartment Jordan lived in to buzz him down, which was what finally had him vetoing that idea.

Rather, he sent off a text letting Jordan know that he was outside. His hands were sweating, and he wiped them off on his thighs. He took another deep breath, turning the AC on even though it was a cool night. John's heart was beating away in his chest and he hadn't been so nervously excited for something in years.

His phone chimed from the cup holder, and John let out a bout of happy, excited laughter when Jordan said he was on his way down. He turned off the radio, tapping his fingers against his knee in a nervous tick that Stiles had picked up from him. It was still light out, not even six in the evening, and John avidly watched the apartment’s door through his windshield.

The moment Jordan stepped out, John felt like the breath had been stolen from him and he was hit with just how attracted to Jordan he truly was. He was breathless, and he hadn't felt like this about someone since Claudia, and the thought had his heart beating away in his chest.

Jordan looked...fuck, Jordan looked incredible. His black t-shirt was just as tight as his black jeans, and the windbreaker he had on was clinging to his biceps. John's mouth went dry, and he had to take a few deep breaths to get his heart rate under control. He looked down at his own outfit before he did his best to push away any doubt he felt.

He leaned over the console to push the door open when Jordan got close, and he immediately felt bad that he had been too awed to get out and open the door for him. This was their first date, and while John hadn't been on a date in over a decade, he still knew the mechanics.

Well, he knew the mechanics of dating a woman. John had a moment of panic, wondering how much he didn’t know. He was so unprepared and he wished that he still had time to call Stiles. If anyone, Stiles would know what John should or shouldn't do, what he should or shouldn't say. However, John didn’t have any time, and he sucked in a shallow breath as Jordan got closer.

Jordan got into the car with a wide smile, his cheeks dimpling as he looked over at John. He was  _ gorgeous _ , and John felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest. He felt giddy knowing that Jordan had wanted to go out with him. He may be freaking out, but  _ damn _ , did he feel lucky. 

“Y-you look great,” John told him, mentally scorning himself for tripping over his words.

“Thank you, John,” Jordan said, his cheeks going pink. John couldn't stop himself, and he leaned over to feel the heat with his lips, pressing a soft kiss to Jordan's cheek before sitting back.

Jordan blushed harder, staring at John with wide eyes. The overhead lights weren't the best, but Jordan's eyes were still bright, so easy to get lost in now that John was finally letting himself. He looked his fill, dragging his eyes up and down Jordan's frame in a way he hadn't before, no matter how much had wanted to. It was different now that he had permission to look, that Jordan had also admitted to being interested.

He couldn't bring himself to look away for another few minutes and they sat in silence as they watched each other. There was nothing awkward to it, and John smiled, wider than he had in ages. There was a comfortable warmth sitting in his chest, one John hadn’t felt in too many years. 

Heat was pooling low in John’s belly, one that was familiar as much as it was foreign. It had been so long since he’d felt so attracted to someone and it was heady, the arousal that he could feel slowly humming through his body. Jordan looked excellent, even better up close where John could see just  _ how _ tight his entire outfit was.

His face split into a smile, one he couldn’t stop from stretching wider and wider. Jordan smiled back at him, lips stretching over straight, white teeth. He managed to pull his eyes away after another few minutes of quietly staring, though the smile stayed on his face. Doing his best to focus back on the road, John kept stealing glances as he switched into drive.

* * *

The diner they went to was small, but it had been a fixture in the town since John himself was a teenager. Ownership had never left the family and the entire wait staff had been there for ages. The electric sign atop the roof had burnt out years ago, and no one had ever bothered to get it fixed. The leather booths were the same ones John had sat at with Claudia, but the thought didn't hurt like it once would have.

John loved it here. He and Claudia had frequented it from the early days of their relationship up until she passed. They would go biweekly, first just the two of them and then with Stiles. After she had passed it was something Stiles insisted they keep doing, and John had always had a hard time telling Stiles no.

And now, it was nice to be here with Jordan. For John this was more than just a restaurant, but a place that meant something to him due to all the time he had spent within its walls. He knew the owners and the staff and the regulars, and he frequented it for takeout and came at least once a month for a sit-down dinner with Stiles.

He was happy that this was where they were having their first date. The familiarity the place held helped to give John a sense of calm. Lord knew he was freaking out enough as it was, and he was determined to enjoy this, to focus on Jordan for the rest of the night.

John got out of the car with a deep breath, berating himself when he heard Jordan close his own door—once again to slow to open it for him. He had been much better at this in his youth, that he was certain. Still, he tried not to dwell the small misstep, rounding the car and offering Jordan a smile and getting a shy grin in return.

He led Jordan towards the diner with a hand on the small of his back, keeping the pressure gentle enough that it wouldn't feel like he was pushing, but strong enough that Jordan would be able to feel it. The darkening flush to Jordan's cheeks was a pleasant sight, and John felt a thrill knowing he had caused it. He made sure he opened the door to the dinner, grinning to himself when Jordan thanked him quietly.

The waitress greeted them by title, though she said nothing about their casual clothing. John had been here enough to greet her by name, and he didn't miss the surprised look on Jordan's face when he started up a conversation about Cara's son. He made a mental note to thank her for seating them far into the diner, in a small, closed off booth near the back.

Jordan looked even better in the dim lighting of the diner, the overhead light casting Jordan's face in sharp shadows. John stared at Jordan as he kept his head down, skimming through the menu. John already knew what he was going to get, and watching Jordan seemed like a far better use of his time.

“You're a regular?” Jordan asked, their drinks orders already taken. He didn't look up for the menu in his hands.

John hummed, keeping his feet tucked underneath him in the small booth. “Yeah, always have been. Came here with Claudia when we were younger, then with Stiles when he was young. We never really stopped.”

“Must be nice,” Jordan said, a wistful tone to his voice. John tilted his head in question, urging Jordan to go on with a wondering noise. “I don't have anywhere like that,” Jordan admitted. “There’s nowhere I've ever been a regular at.”

“Not even back home?” John asked, smiling wide when Jordan finally looked up at him, though he shook his head. John took a breath, trying to calm his heart, then, “Ya know, I don't even know where back home is for you?”

Jordan nodded, though he didn't say anything for a moment. Cara placed their drinks on the table with a smile, though John was sure his own was distracted, too busy watching Jordan. She didn’t ask to take their orders, just quietly left, and John gave her a nod. Jordan didn't look up from where he was still toying with his menu, and John couldn't stop the worry from bubbling up his throat.

“Home was...here and there. We moved around a lot when I was young. Dad worked in construction and mom worked odd jobs where she could, but it—it wasn't steady. Reliable.” Jordan told him, but there seemed to be more to it than he was saying. John was all too familiar with talking around sore subjects, carefully not mentioning the things you didn't want others to know. “I joined the army as soon as I could and then I went wherever they told me to.”

“You've settled here, though, right?” John knew his voice was tight, but he couldn't quite help the anxious bout of nerves that filled his stomach at the thought or Jordan moving away, especially now.

“No, no moving. I think I've found somewhere to put down roots, finally,” Jordan said, and he looked up. The smile on his face was soft, private, and John felt ridiculous for how it had his heart rate rising. “What about you? Have you always lived in Beacon Hills?”

“Not always. Claudia and I moved here when we were pretty young, We got married as soon as we were eighteen. We were best friends but I—I loved her.” John took a deep breath, looking down at his bare finger. It had been a big step to take off his ring but it wouldn't have been fair to Jordan to keep it on. If he was going for this, he was going to make it count, and that meant truly moving on. “We were...eager to leave home. It wasn't great, not for either of us, and we'd been able to save up enough to move away. When we drove through this town, Claudia said she just knew it was home.”

“You were fine with staying?”

“It wasn't like I wanted to be anywhere but with her. I was young but I'd always loved her. And then Stiles came along, and it wasn't like we could move again anyway,” John explained, eyeing Jordan nervously at the mention of Claudia. He was sure talking about his late wife was some sort of first date faux-pas, but it wasn't like Jordan hadn't already known his history. “Uh, so yeah. Been here for over twenty years now.”

Silence settled over the table, and John hunched his shoulders, ducking his head. God, he was going to ruin the date before it'd even really begun. Stiles would never leave him alone about it either, not with the way his boy was apparently rooting for the two of them. He wondered if Stiles' look of disapproval would be as heavy over Skype as it was in person.

It probably would be. John sighed heavily, flicking his eyes up to Jordan only to find the younger man watching him, lower lip stuck between his teeth. That alone had John averting his eyes for the images it conjured, and he could feel the warmth that rose to his cheeks. He cursed his skin at being so obvious. John looked up again, and now Jordan was smiling, a brow raised.

“God, you're old,” Jordan said, the smile on his face was nothing but teasing even though he sounded serious, and John burst out into laughter.

“You have been talking to my son far too much,” John managed to get out in-between bouts of laughter that had him clutching at his belly.

“Not my fault I had to lighten the mood back up,” Jordan said, and John was sure he was flirting. Jordan bumped his foot against John's under the table but instead of pulling it away like John was expecting, he kept them pressed together. Definitely flirting, then.

“So, something lighter?” John asked, letting out another breath when Jordan nodded. “What's your favourite colour?”

“Gr—“

”You two good to order?” Cara interrupted, notepad in hand. She sent John a very obvious wink than had his face feeling hot all over again, but the weight of Jordan's foot against his own was enough to keep him smiling.

* * *

The dinner, after that, was much lighter in tone. John did find out Jordan's favourite colour and shared his own. They talked about Stiles and work, both safe middle grounds, but they shared other trivial facts. Jordan owned a cat that John hadn't known about it, and he absolutely lit up when John mentioned he was looking into adopting a dog. Apparently, Jordan's apartment didn't allow them, though he wanted one, and he made John promise to take him when he went to look.

It felt an awful lot like agreeing to a second date, and John knew his smile was ridiculously large for the rest of the meal.

When they finally left—John insisted on paying, which earned him another quip about his age when he admitted that was just how he was raised—John once again made sure to place a hand on the small of Jordan's back, opening the door for him on the way out. He was rewarded with a small smile and a blush, and god, John felt like the luckiest man in the world when Jordan looked at him like that.

John opened the car door for Jordan, which got him a kiss on the cheek, and John had to take a moment to breathe after closing the door. He hadn't felt like this in years, his stomach fluttering and his palms sweating. He had always been interested in Jordan, sure, but John could feel himself falling head over heels. Taking another deep breath, John finally walked around the car and climbed into his side.

“So, straight home, or would you like to drive for a bit?” John asked, trying to keep his voice from sounding too hopeful, but he didn't want the night to end.

“Is the part of the night where we make out in the back seat of your car?” Jordan asked, though his voice didn’t have the same teasing quality John was used to and when he looked over at him, Jordan's expression was completely serious, even earnest.

“Uh, that definitely wasn't in my plans for the night?” John didn't mean for it to sound like a question, but he didn't know what else to say. If Jordan had been joking, sure, but not when he seemed to be honestly asking.

“Is—is that not what people do anymore?” Jordan asked, though he wasn't looking at John anymore, instead staring down at his hands.

“Jordan, when was the last time you went on a date?”

“Oh. Uh, never?” Jordan's voice broke as his cheeks flushed red and he ducked his head. John didn't like it—the blush wasn't nearly as pretty when Jordan's expression was so sour.

“Never?” John asked, though he tried his best to keep his voice neutral.

“Well, I enlisted right after high school. And I mentioned we moved around a lot. Sometimes two or three times during a school year,” Jordan shrugged, though he curved his shoulders forward. John reached over to squeeze Jordan's thigh, as much as a show of support as it was just because he wanted to get his hands on the younger man.

“Well, we're not going to make out in the back seat of my cruiser. We both have homes we can put to use,” John said, and Jordan's cheeks went pinker at the same time his mouth dropped open, and he looked over at John with dark eyes.

Jordan gave him a nod, though John needed to hear it, refused to get his own hopes up just yet. “So, my place or yours?”

“Y-yours?” Jordan's voice was thin, embarrassed. John didn't like that either. “I uh, was not expecting company. My apartment is...well, it's sort of a mess.”

John snorted, squeezing Jordan's thigh again. The muscle was firm in his hand, tight under his grip, and John lost himself in the feeling of Jordan's jeans under his fingertips. He squeezed it again, harder this time, and Jordan's breath hitched, John's own breathing speeding up in response. John went to pull his hand back but Jordan made a small noise, covering John's hand with his own and pressing his palm down.

“I just need to start the car,” John whispered, meeting Jordan's wide-eyed gaze.

He held his breath until Jordan nodded, and he quickly turned the key, reversing out of his parking spot and switching back into drive. He waited until he was out of the parking lot and slowly driving down a straight road before he put his hand back. John let out a breathless sort of laugh when Jordan covered his hand again, and this time he slipped their fingers together.

He drove just on the speed limit, though he desperately wanted to go slower. The silence that had settled over them was charged, thick with a tension, and John felt like he could feel the heaviness in the air. It was still light out though, and even if he wanted to take his damn time, draw out the car ride as long as he could, he had an appearance to uphold.

Jordan's fingers were warm between his, his thigh solid under his hand. John's heart wouldn't slow down and he would be worried if it were for any other reason. The only noise in the car was their own breathing, and John was worried that turning on the radio would do something to break whatever was growing between them.

He turned onto Claire Street, the only 'downtown' area Beacon Hills had. Sure, it was a bit of a detour, but Jordan didn't say anything in protest, just hummed softly and John shot his eyes over to watch him looking out the window. It was still early, only now getting close to eight, and the light from the setting sun was soft.

It didn't seem to matter how many times had already thought it that night; Jordan was gorgeous.

“I have to make a quick stop,” John blurted, his mind whirling as he thought and planned. If this was Jordan's first date, he wanted to make it as damn special as he could. John already felt like he'd made a fool of himself, but the night was still young, and hopefully he'd be able to turn it around.

He turned into a parking lot, anxiously eyeing the time as it got closer and closer to eight. John pulled to a stop, giving Jordan's thigh a squeeze before having to pull his hand back to park the car. The tension was still there, but it was lighter, calmer than it had first been. John had no idea if this was a good idea or not, but he tried to steel his nerves either way.

“Thought you said we weren't making out in the cruiser?” Jordan asked, raising his brow as he looked over at John.

“No, we aren't. I just have to grab something, do you mind waiting for a few minutes?” John asked, looking in the mirrors and out the window to make sure Jordan wouldn't be able to see him walk to the shop from where they were.

“Just leave the keys so I can turn the radio on,” Jordan said, and John let out a breath when Jordan smiled.

“Thank you,” he said, not wasting another second before leaving the car, turning the corner and speed walking down the street. It wasn't very busy, not on a Wednesday, but it was nice to be out. He hadn't done much of that in a while.

The sign on the front door stated that the shop closed at eight p.m., and John checked his watch already feeling horrible. The place closed in four minutes, but John couldn't talk himself out of his plan. A bell chimed when John pushed the door to the florist’s shop open, and the smell hit him like a wall. He took a deep breath as he walked in, slapping the friendliest smile he could muster onto his face.

“Sheriff,” the lady behind the counter was old, and it took John a long moment to remember her name. When he did, he greeted her with a smile, only faltering for a moment in the face of her glare.

“Jean...” John said, trailing off when she huffed.

“You're cutting it close,” she said. Her voice was weak but pleasant, and her smile was soft, “but I'll make an exception just this once. What can I get for you?”

“I need a bouquet,” John told her, though he shrugged his shoulders when she raised a brow in question. He didn’t have specifics in mind, just that he wanted to do this for Jordan.

“Really, Jonathan?” Jean's glare was more impressive than before, and John felt ridiculous at being intimidated by someone half his height and twice his age. “Fine. What are they for?”

“A date,” John said, taking a step backwards at the sudden glee on Jean's face

“ _ A date _ ?” she asked, and John nodded with a long-suffering sigh. He knew just how fast gossip got around the town and he knew just why it got around so fast. “Well, you just leave this to me, alright?”

There was an added softness to her voice that hadn't been there before, and John gave her a smile. Beacon Hills thought it was a smaller town than it was, and it held a certain mindset. It wasn't unusual to know everyone who lived on your street, to be on a first name basis with the cashiers and baristas you saw the most. Beacon Hills wasn't a place you left, and it wasn’t often a place you moved to.

John had bought flowers from this very shop, this very woman, countless times in his years with Claudia. He had watched her age as she had watched him, much like the rest of the town. It was one of the few things about Beacon Hills that he didn't like—well, aside from the dangerous supernatural creatures that had plagued the town for a few years.

He waited as she busied around the shop, and he watched as she grabbed flowers from the rows and rows of metal shelves, each one filled with different sized vases holding a variety of flowers. John didn't want to seem nosy, so he busied himself with checking his phone. Asides from a text from his son, one that was nothing more than a handful of eggplant emoji's, he had no notifications and he tucked his phone back into his jeans.

“I'll just be another moment,” Jean said, racing past him fast enough that John didn't get a good look at the impressive bundle of flowers she was carrying.

It took more than five minutes for Jean to come back, but when she did John's breath caught. The bouquet was gorgeous, ridiculously large and bright, a mix of yellows and oranges and whites—all flowers John couldn't hope to name. John couldn't help the smile that pulled at his lips, excitement rising in his belly at the thought of giving them to Jordan.

“I know, I know,” Jean said, a smug twist to her lips. “They're wonderful. I'll just wrap the stems for you, alright?”

John nodded, watching her work quietly. His heart was beating loudly in his chest, the excitement only getting stronger. She typed away at the register, flipping through a large book as she did.

“Wow, it's been a while since I bought flowers,” John commented, eyeing the price before pulling out his wallet.

“Oh, hush. These have a little something extra just for you. They'll stay looking like this even if your fella forgets to water them,” John's mouth dropped open in surprise, though Jean's expression didn't change even as her eyes flashed bright white. “You ‘ought to be less surprised, living in a town like this.”

“I—you're right. It still blows my mind that all this stuff even exists,” John admitted, handing over cash and not accepting his change. “This is gorgeous, Jean. I—it's wonderful, and I know this is after hours for you.”

“Alright, alright,” she said, taking the change back and closing the register. She walked around the cash, gently handing John the flowers and settling a hand on his arm. “Now, I am obligated to my book club to tell them all about this little meeting. They would skin me alive if I didn't tell them, really. But, I don't need to tell them who you bought such lovely flowers for.”

He found himself thinking about it for the first time, what it would really be like to date Jordan, a  _ man _ , and do so openly. But Beacon Hills a good town, an accepting place, and he found that he wasn't much worried. “Don't drop any names. I don't know where he stands on the matter, but you don't have to lie about it being a man.”

“Very well, John,” Jean said, patting his cheek with a withered hand. “You enjoy your night, alright?”

“I'll try my best,” John told her, letting Jean push him out of the shop. He gave her one last smile through the window, nervously checking his watch.

He walked faster when he realized he'd nearly been an entire twenty minutes—which was far longer than he had meant to be gone for. For god's sake, John just could not get this damn night to go his way. Leaving his date alone for twenty minutes was  _ definitely _ bad etiquette, and he wouldn't have been surprised if Jordan changed his mind on continuing their evening.

That...was not something John wanted to happen, and no matter how silly the gesture, he crossed his fingers, moving the bouquet to hold behind his back as he rounded the corner. Making his way to the passenger’s side, he could just hear the soft crooning of country music from inside the car. As he stepped closer John could hear Jordan's voice as well, softly singing along, and John's heart flipped over in his chest.

Biting down on a smile, he tapped on Jordan's window, laughing when the man jumped in his seat. He sent John a betrayed look that had him laughing harder, motioning for him to do down his window. Jordan pouted—which  _ damn _ , was that ever a pleasant sight—but he rolled the window down, leaning out just a little and...John had a take a deep breath and push down the thoughts their positions brought to mind.

“You took a while,” Jordan said, though he was smiling now, an embarrassed twist to his lips. “I was beginning to doubt you were coming back.”

“I'll always come back,” John told him without thinking, and he awkwardly cleared his throat when Jordan's eyes went wide. “Uh. Right. Sorry it took so long, I hadn't meant for it to.”

Jordan stared at him for another second before he shook his head a little, the smile on his lips going pleased as his cheeks once again tinted pink. “Do I get to know what you were doing?”

“Actually, I was getting you something,” John said, his face once again breaking out into a smile.

He waited for Jordan to reply, and the mans soft  _ 'go on' _ was more than enough for John. His stomach twisting with nerves, John brought his hand around him, holding the bouquet at Jordan’s eye level. He felt like his heart was beating out of his chest and it only got worse when Jordan's mouth dropped open, his eyes going wide as his blush darkened.

“They—they're... _ wow _ , John. They're amazing,” Jordan said, his voice short and breathless. He took the flowers carefully, gently resting them on his lap before looking back up at John. “Thank you. I—thank you.”

John smiled, his heart soaring with the confirmation that Jordan enjoyed the gift. He wasted no time making his way back into the car, a giddiness he hadn't felt in  _ years _ bubbling up in his chest, making him feel breathless and weightless and so, so happy.

He couldn't wipe the smile off his face as he started the car and he kept sneaking glances over at Jordan's equally happy expression as he backed out of the lot.

“John,” Jordan said, his voice hardly more than a whisper, and John almost didn't hear him over the music. He hummed, flicking his eyes to Jordan but he couldn't read the expression he was wearing. “I—uh. What about your hand?”

John had to bite down on his bottom lip to keep himself from laughing when he realized what Jordan was asking, but his smile just grew wider. He placed his hand back on Jordan's thigh, squeezing tightly when Jordan immediately twined their fingers back together.

“Better?” he asked, and he took Jordan's the happy noise Jordan made as confirmation. John couldn't believe how much the action warmed his heart, and he knew right then he was gone on Jordan.

He focused back on driving, because that was a touch easier than coming to terms with the depths of his feelings, and he tunelessly hummed along with the radio. Jordan had switched it from country to something Stiles would listen to, but he didn't mind either way. Jordan was tapping his thumb to the beat and John enjoyed the feeling of it against his hand.

“So, where to now?” he asked at a stop sign, making sure to keep his face open. Sure, he wanted more than anything to take Jordan back to his house, but he wasn't going to push if Jordan decided that he didn't want that anymore.

“If I remember right, Sheriff, you're supposed to be taking us back to your place,” Jordan said, his grin small but his eyes were dark, and he pulled John's hand higher up on his thigh as he  _ batted his fucking eyelashes _ .

John choked on his own tongue, pounding his chest as he coughed—though he made sure not to let go of Jordan's thigh, especially with where his hand was now sitting. “Y-yeah. Yeah, uh, I can do that.”

Jordan laughed, the sound bright and happy, and despite his embarrassment, John laughed with him, unable to look away from Jordan's flushed face. It was so easy, too easy, to get lost in Jordan's eyes, and he couldn't bring himself to look away. He didn't look away, or move, until a set of headlights shined through the car, shocking John out of the moment.

He laughed at himself, squeezing Jordan's thigh one more time before starting on the drive home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this whole, _not posting wip's until they're fully written_ thing is life changing


	3. Chapter 3

John didn't move his hand for the rest of the ride, though he did draw small circles into the inseam of Jordan's pants with his pinky. They spoke quietly, though the conversation remained mundane. The tension in the car wasn't nearly as bad as it had been after dinner and the small talk they made was enjoyable. It made it easier for John to see how well they would fit together, and then berate himself for once again thinking too far ahead.

“Don’t move?” John asked when they were parked in his driveway, and he waited for Jordan's nod before getting out of the car. He rushed around to the passenger side, opening Jordan's door with a smile.

“Thank you,” Jordan said, and John was beginning to think his blush was permanent, with the way it had yet to fully fade.

He offered Jordan his elbow and while even John felt he was being ridiculous, it was worth it when Jordan laughed. Jordan looked at him with a shy little smile, though he wrapped his hand loosely around John's arm and let himself be led to the front door. He only pulled away once John unlocked the door, and Jordan followed him in.

“We usually take off our shoes, if you don't mind,” he said, dropping his keys in the front dish—a large Father's Day mug that Stiles had painted for him when he was a kid—and lined his shoes neatly at the front door.

“I've never understood folk who don't. Do you mind if I take off my jacket?”

John took a steadying breath, then turned to Jordan with a smile. “Here, I'll hold the flowers?”

He was absolutely not prepared for Jordan to take off his jacket. The sleeves had been tight before, but the t-shirt he had on was near indecent. John had to bite his lip to stop from moaning, because the way the black material was stretched over his arms and chest was—well, it should have been illegal. And John would know, being the Sheriff and all.

“John,” Jordan asked, his smile wide as he watched John watch him. “Where can I hang my jacket?”

It took him a moment to answer, distracted by the way Jordan’s nipple was outlined by the black material. “Uh—uh, i-in the closet?”

“You sure about that?” Jordan asked, and John liked the soft way his voice sounded when Jordan was teasing him. 

John gulped, trying to get his mind out of the gutter. “Yeah. Yeah, in the closet is okay.”

Jordan laughed again and John watched as he hung up his jacket, his body flexing as he moved, the material of his t-shirt stretching over his body. He couldn’t even stop himself from watching, not when the sight was so good. John was almost surprised to find himself as aroused as he was, warm heat pooling low in his belly as his heart picked up, all from the way Jordan's shirt stretched across his body.

“So...” Jordan said, trailing off. He clapped his hands together, startling John out of his staring, and he blushed, his face going warm.

“Do you want a drink?” he asked, cursing himself for his bad manners. He was supposed to be turning this date around, not making it worse.

“Sure,” Jordan said, and John led him into the kitchen, making his way to the fridge before he did something stupid.

“We should probably put these in water, right?” Jordan asked, shifting his weight as he stood in the centre of the kitchen.

“No,” John said, grabbing two bottles of water from the fridge. “Apparently, they won’t be dying anytime soon. Did you know Jean was a witch?”

“Yeah, she’s being been hounding Stiles about working for her ever since he left for college,” Jordan said, laying the flowers carefully on the counter. 

“Huh,” John hummed, a little put out that Stiles hadn’t told him this, and possibly more put out that the young,  _ young _ man he was currently on a date with was friends with his son. 

“Most of our conversations focus on the supernatural,” Jordan explained, and John shrugged. He had already decided he wasn’t going to let the age difference get in the way of their night and he wasn’t going to go back on that now.

“Do you want to see what's on TV?” John asked, searching for something to say. Luckily, Jordan nodded, and John led him into the living room.

He thought about taking the armchair, but he...he was too hopeful. John had no idea what was going to happen—hell, if anything—but he  _ was  _ hopeful. It was a strange feeling, after so long of being on his own. He hadn’t felt this sort of giddy excitement in  _ decades _ , but it was nice. He took a deep breath, sitting half on the middle and half on the side cushion. 

It left enough space that Jordan had room to sit without them being pressed together, but it made it so they couldn't sit an entire couch apart. He was happily surprised when Jordan sat close, leaving hardly a foot between them. John wasn’t able to bite down on his smile and when he looked over, Jordan was grinning down at his hands. 

“So, is watching TV code for making out?” Jordan asked, and John couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled out of him.

“I hadn’t meant it like that,” John told him, settling back into the couch and spreading his legs, looking over at Jordan. It was easy for him to lay a hand on Jordan’s thigh, especially after the car ride, and it felt natural to do so now. 

“Really, John? You know, I do have eyes,” Jordan said, but some of the tenseness slid from his body. He relaxed a little more into the couch.

“In my defence,” John said, and he took a deep breath. This seemed...it seemed like more, the admittance. “you’re really damn hot, Jo.”

“You are too, sir,” Jordan said, and the title, in a setting like this, had a groan ripping from John’s throat as he tightened his grip on Jordan’s thigh. He leaned his head back on the couch and closed his eyes, his cock taking an interest. “ _ Oh _ , oh god, John.”

“Tell me what you want this, Jordan, you have to tell me—” John began, but he was cut off when Jordan suddenly moved, batting his hand away. John panicked, but before he could even ask what was wrong Jordan was climbing into his lap, straddling his thighs and steadying himself by grabbing John’s shoulders.

John looked up at him, breathless when Jordan rested his weight in John’s lap. His cock was  _ definitely _ interested now, and he clenched his hands into fists, closing his eyes and taking a long, deep breath as his cock hardened faster than it had in  _ years _ . 

“I-is this okay?” Jordan asked, his face beet red and his voice thin. Still, he squeezed John’s shoulders, sliding his hands towards John’s neck, his fingertips slipping under the neckline of John’s shirt.

“Yep. Yes, yes this is very much okay,” John said, staring up at Jordan’s face, eyes skimming over miles and miles of black-clad muscle. John’s mouth when dry and he fitted his hands to Jordan’s hips, slipping his hands under his shirt. Jordan was all hard muscle and John couldn't stop himself from following the lines of muscle leading down from his hips, tucking his fingers into the hem of Jordan’s jeans.

Jordan let out a noise, and John’s eyes snapped up to his face. His eyes were closed and he had his head tipped back. He was so gorgeous, and he was sitting in John’s lap, fingers linked together behind John’s neck. John had to bite down on his tongue to keep in an admittance neither of them was ready for.

“Jo,” he choked out, his voice a deep, gravelly thing. Jordan’s eyes slipped open, bright and clear and beautiful. “Kiss me? Please, baby, I need you to kiss me.”

Jordan let out a little laugh, but then he was leaning in, stopping just a breath away. He rested their foreheads together and moved his hands to cup John’s face. He covered Jordan's hand with his own, pulling them in so he could kiss each palm. Jordan let out a shuddering breath, though tension leaked out of his shoulders. 

Finally,  _ finally _ Jordan pressed the rest of the way in. John was still half hard but he ignored his own arousal. He kissed Jordan softly, catching his bottom lip between both of his, keeping their first kiss to the press of their closed mouths. John slid their mouths together, smirking against Jordan’s mouth when he let out a shuddering breath.

Jordan didn’t really kiss back, but John didn’t mind. Jordan was sweeping his thumbs over John’s cheekbones, fingers rubbing against his stubble. After going so long without being touched by another person, even something so small felt amazing, and shivers raced through his body. John, needing a breath, pulled off with a dramatic smooching noise that had Jordan  _ giggling _ . 

He felt like his heart was soaring.

“Thank you,” Jordan whispered, and his eyes were still closed when John looked up at him, his lips twisted up into a soft smile.

“What for?” he asked, running his hands up and down Jordan’s sides. 

“Everything. The dinner and the flowers and the kiss. I h-hoped, that you liked me, and Stiles was so sure, kept telling me to ask you out but I—” Jordan pressed forward for another kiss, then. It was a little too hard, their teeth clacking together. John didn’t care, just softened the kiss as he wrapped his arms around Jordan's back, unable to keep himself from straining closer. 

Eventually, Jordan pulled back and his lips were red. John groaned when Jordan swiped his tongue out to wet them. “I was beginning to think I’d never get to do this.”

“Never get to...” John said, trailing off his brain tripped over itself, trying to make sense with what Jordan just admitted. 

“I’ve never been with anymore. Hell, I’ve never even made out with someone, not sober, anyway.” Jordan told him, and John made a strangled sort of noise. He knew that it shouldn’t make a difference, that Jordan’s experience, or lack thereof, shouldn’t make a difference, but...fuck if that knowledge didn’t go straight to his damn cock.

He must have been silent for too long because Jordan's eyes went wide, his skin paling. Jordan went to pull back, and John finally managed to pull his brain out of his dick. “Wouldn’t have been able to tell, not with the way you crawled into my lap like that.”

Jordan’s face turned red again, and John pressed up for a quick kiss. “It was okay, right?”

“Baby,  _ anytime _ you want to be in my lap is more than okay. Hell, I might never let you leave,” John teased, resting his hands above the swell of Jordan’s ass. Jordan pushed up, and John’s hands fell to his ass. He squeezed when Jordan smiled down at him, and he smirked when it drew him a groan.

He pulled back from the kiss, thoughts flipping over in his mind. “I’ve never done this either.”

Jordan’s eyes went wide and he pulled back, resting his weight on John’s thighs. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve never been with a man,” John admitted, and he could feel his own cheeks heat up as he kept going. “I’ve never been with anyone other than Claudia, and that was years ago. This is all new territory to me, too.”

“Oh,” Jordan said quietly, and John waited as he stayed silent. He ran his hands softly up and down Jordan’s thighs, waiting for him to continue. “I’m—I’m glad? Knowing that this is a first for both of us.”

John nodded. It was comforting knowing that they would be going into this together, and more than that, it was exciting. It took off some of the pressure John had felt, and his next smile came easier. He pressed up for another kiss, softly sliding their lips together.

“Don’t wanna move,” Jordan said, and he sat fully in John’s lap. The weight was welcome, and when Jordan rocked his hips forward, he couldn't keep down a moan. 

“Don’t have to move,” John told him, urging Jordan to roll forward again. He was hard, and his erection was pressed into John’s belly.

When Jordan kissed him, John licked into his mouth. Jordan moaned, swiping their tongues together. It was clumsy and too wet, but John loved it. He loved the weight and feel of Jordan in his lap, the sharp bite to his scent and the taste of his mouth. John was so hard, painfully straining against his jeans. He wanted, needed, more, but he tried to slow down.

“John,” Jordan  _ growled _ , and when John pulled back his eyes were glowing orange. “ _ Touch me _ .”

“Oh shit,” John said, and his hips twitched up on their own. “Yeah, okay. How—how'd you want me to...?”

Jordan sucked John’s bottom lip into his mouth instead of answering, grinding down until they were both panting, unable to keep up the kiss as they shared air. Jordan sat up, pushing his ass harder against John’s erection. He watched, wide-eyed, as Jordan peeled off his shirt. His mouth dropped open, eyes tracking over the planes of hard,  _ defined _ muscle.

“Holy shit,” John whispered, taking his hands from Jordan’s ass and running them over his body, fitting between his abs. Jordan laughed, a breathless thing, and his eyes faded back to light green. “Way to make a man feel inferior,  _ damn _ .”

Jordan blushed, and John watched as it travelled down his chest. He followed it with hands and then his mouth, sucking and nipping as he went. His skin was salty fresh, and John couldn't keep himself from biting down, sucking the skin into his mouth. He hollowed out his cheeks as he sucked, pulling up a bruise.

Before he was able to move back, Jordan tangled his fingers into John’s hair and pushed him harder against his chest. Instead of letting up he just continued, laving his skin with wet kisses until Jordan’s grip loosened. He leaned back as he pressed a kiss to the mark, and he frowned when he watched it fade away.

“That’s not fair,” John grumbled, and he leaned in to try again. This time he sucked harder and for longer, and while it faded away slower, it still didn’t stay. John slumped back into the couch with a disappointed sigh.

Jordan laughed, and John’s frown turned into a playful pout. “Can I take your shirt off?”

John nodded, ignoring that uncomfortable feeling in his chest. It was silly to be feeling so insecure, but John couldn’t help it. Jordan was gorgeous, miles of hard muscle and John...well, John was lucky if he got to the gym more than twice a week. He wasn't in bad shape, not with the way Stiles monitored his diet, but he definitely didn't look like Jordan.

Still, he raised his arms over his head as Jordan pulled off his henley. He kept his eyes closed, and even if he felt foolish, he couldn't bring himself to watch Jordan’s reaction. It was quiet for a moment, and John's brain begins to list a series of worst-case scenarios. Jordan's weight in his lap only helped to reassure him so much. His eyes shot open when Jordan palmed his chest, dragging his hands down John's body and over his belly.

Jordan was looking at him with orange eyes and John could just hear the deep, low growl that was rumbling out of his chest. John flushed under the scrutiny, his cock plumping back up when Jordan tugged sharply at his chest hair. When Jordan kissed him this time, it was smoother than before, and John groaned.

“So good, Jordan, fuck, so good,” John mumbled into the kiss and Jordan nodded, rolling his hips forward. They were both hard, again or still it didn’t matter, and their erections dragged together. 

“I—John. I don’t know.  _ Ngh _ , I’m not sure—”

“Anything you want, baby, we can do anything you want,” John assured, cupping Jordan’s face in his hands “We could just do this.”

“Are you sure?” Jordan asked, and John swept his thumbs over Jordan’s cheekbones until he didn't look so anxious.

“Hell, I’m not even sure I could take off my pants without coming,” John admitted, and it made Jordan giggle again.

He didn’t say anything as Jordan stared at him, just moved his hands to run up and down his sides. His skin was overly warm, but John found the heat comforting. He didn't mind the silence, not with Jordan, and he let his eyes slip closed. It was comfortable and his arousal was calmer, a light burning in his belly that was easy to ignore. 

John still didn’t open his eyes when Jordan leaned in, but he hummed happily into the kiss. Jordan pressed even closer, their chests rubbing together and John moaned, opening his mouth. He trailed his hands to Jordan's ass again, urging him to rock forward faster.

“W-want you, please, John. Y-your hand, please. With your hand,” Jordan begged, trailing his hands over John's shoulders to tangle in his hair and  _ tug _ . 

John nearly came when Jordan asked him to touch him, and he had no idea how he didn't pop off right then. He breathed deeply, trying to calm down. “Do you want to take off your pants?”

He made sure not to be disappointed when Jordan shook his head, though it was easy to do when Jordan undid the button of his jeans. He bit down on a laugh when Jordan couldn't pull down his zipper. 

“You aren't going to be able to get those down,” John told him, smiling when Jordan flushed. 

“I don't want to get off your lap,” Jordan said, and John pressed up for a few more kisses, unable to keep down a smile.

“You can climb right back on,” John told him, trying to ignore just how hard his cock was. Jordan laughed, but he  _ did _ stand.

John watched avidly as he unzipped his pants, and he couldn't bring himself to look away. Jordan’s briefs were black as well, and they were stretched obscenely over his cock. There was a large wet patch and John’s mouth watered. His cock throbbed and he had to press the heel of his hand against his dick, needing  _ something _ . Jordan’s thighs were muscled just like the rest of him, and John was a little surprised at just how turned on he was by the obvious strength in his body. 

When Jordan pushed off his briefs, John's breath got punched out of him. Jordan's cock was thick, head peeking out over his foreskin, There as a bead of precome clinging to the tip, and John couldn’t stop himself from leaning forward and reaching out, collecting the bead on his thumb and sucking it into his mouth. Jordan groaned loudly, and John watched as another drop leaked out.

“Holy fuck”, Jordan said, and John smiled up at him. “A-are you going to take yours off too?”

“I can,” John said, and Jordan was already nodding even before he finished. He chuckled, leaning back and undoing his jeans, kicking them off with his underwear. 

His cock slapped up against his stomach, throbbing now that it was free. He looked up at Jordan, finding him staring with orange eyes. “So, are you going to climb back on?”

Jordan nodded, and he climbed into John’s lap carefully. The feeling of their legs brushing together pulled a groan from him, and he grabbed hold of Jordan's thighs, running his hands up and down the skin. The hair tickled his palms and John’s heart sped up. Jordan’s cock looked obscene stretching out from his body, and John itched with the urge to touch, to taste. 

He was surprised at how easily the urge settled over his skin. He’d never been with a man before and he could count on one hand how many times he had even  _ wanted _ to be with a man. But Jordan—Jordan was different, special, and had made room for himself in John’s heart without John ever realizing it.

Wanting Jordan was as easy as breathing, and he wrapped his hand around Jordan’s cock excitedly. He stroked his hand up and down, but the angle was off. It felt different, the slide of Jordan’s cock compared to his own. The foreskin changed the feel and his hand glided easily. His own cock was hard and leaking and he wrapped his own hand around it.

“Holy shit,” Jordan moaned, his eyes flashing orange as he panted. 

“Does that feel good?” John asked, and he couldn’t keep the nervousness out of his voice. 

Jordan nodded, bowing forward when John swiped his thumb over the head, pushing against the slit of his cock. It felt good, knowing that he was making Jordan feel so good, and John redoubled his efforts. A dick was a dick, and it couldn't be all that different from his own. He twisted his wrist on the way up, still thrown off by the wrong angle, and Jordan bucked into his fist.

“W-what about you?” he panted, pressing their cheeks together as he breathed in heavily.

John pushed his hips up until their cocks lined up, and he wrapped his hand around the both of them. Jordan’s cock was wet, precome steadily leaking from the tip and John was both impressed and  _ very _ aroused. It slicked the way and it made the drag of their cocks together much smoother. John let his head fall back, a groan slipping past his lips.

He almost came when Jordan’s hand joined his. It was warm, so warm, and John was already so keyed up. It felt like he’d been hard for hours and his cock was  _ aching _ . He was ready to come, but he tried his best to hold back. Speeding up his hand, he used his free hand to pull Jordan down and into a kiss, licking into his mouth and sucking on his tongue.

Arousal was building too fast and too heavy in his stomach, his balls getting tighter and tighter. Jordan felt so good, his weight and his warmth and his  _ smell _ , all surrounding John. He moaned into his kiss, his body feeling like it was going to explode as it all just built and built. Jordan was still kissing him, his other hand in John’s hair, tugging occasionally. 

It made everything better. Jordan was rocking into their joint fists, John’s own hips making small, aborted gestures as he tried not to come so soon. It wasn’t going to be a winning battle and he had to pull away from the kiss to lock his jaw when Jordan tugged tightly on his hair. John arched his back as he came, shouting out as come shot up onto their bellies and leaked over their cocks.

Jordan made a noise, and then John was being pulled into another kiss. He could hardly think, let alone move, and Jordan batted his hand away from his cock. Pulling back to rest their foreheads together, John looked down at where Jordan was quickly stripping his own dick, John’s come glistening in the light as Jordan used it as lube.

“C’mon, baby. You’re doing so good, Jo. Are you going to come on me?” John asked, dropping his voice. It had been...a long time since he had to talk dirty to anyone, but Claudia had always loved it. “You’re doing so well, baby, so well.”

“ _ Daddy _ ,” Jordan choked out, and John moaned, attacking Jordan’s mouth in a rough, messy kiss as Jordan came over his stomach and chest, shooting warmly all over his abdomen. 

When he pulled back, Jordan was watching him with wide, shocked eyes, and his mouth was dropping open in what looked like surprise. John watched as what he said must have sunk in, because he began to visibly panic, trying to pull away. His body started to shake, and John wrapped both of his arms around him, heedless to the mixed semen covering his chest. 

“Hey, hey, Jordan, it’s okay. C’mon, breathe, baby, breathe,” John soothed, rubbing his hand up and down Jordan’s back, pressing kisses to his hair and temple. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know—”

“No, no. Jordan, I was so into that,” John admitted, hugging Jordan that bit tighter. “Hell, if I was twenty years younger, I’d already be up and ready for a second round.”

Jordan laughed wetly, though he moved until he was sitting sideways in John’s lap. John kept his arms around Jordan the whole time, giving him enough space to move but not enough to pull away. He pulled Jordan back against his chest once he was situated, and he combed through Jordan’s hair.

“I didn’t know that was a thing I liked,” Jordan admitted, and John hummed. 

“I’m glad you’re into it,” John told him. “It’s always been something I thought I would enjoy.”

Jordan was quiet for a moment, and when he spoke John thought his heart would stop. “So, did—did you like that, Daddy?”

John swore under his breath, tightening his fingers in Jordan’s hair but not quite tugging. “Damn, baby. Yeah, yeah Daddy liked that  _ a lot _ . It felt so good, and watching you come was...wow. You’re so gorgeous.”

“Thank you,” Jordan said, and then quieter, his whole face red, “Daddy.”

John didn’t say anything to that, just continued to hold Jordan and run his hand up and down his back. Their come was drying on his chest and belly but he couldn't bring himself to get up. It was gross, especially as a glob dripped down his chest but he was too comfortable, and Jordan looked  _ exhausted _ . 

“Do you want to spend the night?” John asked, carding his hands through Jordan’s hair.

“I only sleep over at my boyfriend’s house,” Jordan said, though he tucked his face into John’s neck and didn't move back. That was fine with John.

“Well, why do you think I’m asking?” John asked, his smile all but splitting his face when Jordan moved up to kiss him with a snort.

He settled back into John’s body, slumping enough that he could rest his head on John’s shoulder. He was warm, practically a blanket, and the sound of his even breathing was calming. John had missed this, more than anything else. His house had been so quiet,  _ too quiet _ , ever since Stiles left. Now, having Jordan here, John didn’t find the quiet as heavy.

“We should shower,” he whispered, but he didn’t dare speak any louder. 

Jordan just mumbled, his mouth dropping open where it was resting by his armpit. John looked down at him, face impossibly soft as he held Jordan in his arms, rubbing a hand up and down  _ his _ boys back. He felt like he needed to pinch himself, completely overwhelmed with how lucky he felt. Jordan was gorgeous, fucking  _ perfect _ , and he was his. 

“Jo,” John said quietly, slipping his hand lower and ghosting over the swell of Jordan’s ass, just because he could. “Baby, we need to get up.”

Jordan whined, dragging his lips over John’s chest in a way that had him shivering. “I don’t wan’to.”

“I know sweetheart,” John cooed, pressing a kiss into Jordan’s hair. “I know, and I’m so sorry for making you get up. But I’m too old to sleep on the couch, baby, especially with you in my lap like this.”

“That's your own fault for being so old, Daddy,” Jordan teased, his lips twisting down into a pout. Still, he pushed himself upright, using John’s shoulder to help himself to his feet. 

“Oh, you think you’re funny, huh?” John asked, but he still let Jordan pull him up. 

His back popped and he shifted uncomfortably, trying to bite down on a grimace. Jordan laughed, so John tugged him forward with the hand he was still holding. Wrapping both arms around Jordan’s waist, he pulled him in for a slow kiss, their chests pressing together, their mixed come pressing together in a cool shock. 

“That’s disgusting.” John said, scrunching up his nose at the feeling.

“I like it,” Jordan said quietly, and his cheeks darkened. John nosed at one, pressing a kiss to the smooth skin. “The smell. I like the smell.”

“Is that a hellhound thing?” John asked, swaying them back and forth once Jordan looked up at him. His boy nodded, though his face was still heated in a blush. “What about it do you like?”

“Well the...the beast is, uh, happy? It likes that you smell, uhm, that you smell like  _ mine _ ,” Jordan mumbled, and he tucked his face into John’s neck.

John hummed, turning his head so he could nose at Jordan’s temple. “I like the sound of that.”

They were still just standing in the middle of John’s living room, completely naked with their clothes spread out around them. He didn’t feel awkward or uncomfortable, especially when Jordan slipped his own arms around John’s waist to sway along with him. 

Neither of them said anything for several minutes, and John got lost in the rhythmic sound of their breathing. They fit together so well, Jordan’s head resting on his shoulder. His nose was brushing the hollow of John’s throat, his breath warm against John’s skin. It was so easy, holding Jordan in his arms and swaying together. His heart swelled, his throat going impossibly tight for a moment.

“We should go up to bed,” John said after a few more minutes of quiet, though he didn’t make to step back.

“I thought you wanted to shower?” Jordan asked, and when John moved his head back, Jordan’s eyes were closed, his face settled into a soft smile.

“I do,” John said, running a hand up and down Jordan’s back as he brought them to a stop. “I would love to be able to wash you, make sure my boy is nice and clean.”

“Oh,” Jordan said, his face flushing so prettily. John hummed, resting his hand on Jordan’s ass. “I...okay. Okay, yeah. Yeah.”

John laughed softly, though he pulled away with a soft smile. He was excited, even if all he was going to be doing was washing Jordan down. All he wanted to do was keep Jordan close, make sure that his boy was happy and clean. The urge was strong and it was unfamiliar, but he liked the way it settled warmly inside his chest.

He led the way up to the bathroom, neither of them bothering to pick up their clothes. They were both quiet, and John was surprised he felt so comfortable in his nudity. He didn’t feel the least bit insecure, not anymore. Everything with Jordan was easy, and John felt like he was out of his depth with how strongly he felt. 

The sound of the ceiling fan when John turned it on was jarring. He grabbed two clean towels from under the sink, setting them on the counter. Jordan was looking around, a youthful curiosity on his face than John liked the look of.

“I don’t have a spare toothbrush,” John said apologetically, but Jordan just shrugged, still looking around the bathroom. “I’ll pick one up for next time.”

“Next time?” Jordan asked, flicking wide eyes to John. 

“God, I hope there’s a next time,” John said, and he pulled Jordan into his space again, leaning in to steal another kiss.

“Me too,” Jordan admitted, the words gasped into their kiss. It only lasted for a moment before John was pulling himself back, the come on his belly starting to get crusty.

“Can you set the temperature, baby?” John asked, and a thrill shot down his spine when Jordan answered with a soft ‘yes Daddy’. He patted Jordan’s ass when he turned away, holding back a laugh when Jordan jumped at the contact.

Crowding close, John wrapped his arms around Jordan’s waist as he played with the water temperature, holding him in a loose hug. John couldn’t get enough, and even though he knew he was hanging all over Jordan he couldn’t bring himself to stop. He just wanted to be  _ close _ , and it felt better when they were touching, skin pressed to skin.

He wasn’t sure if it was because it had been so long since he had this or if it was something that had to do with Jordan, but he didn't mind. Jordan was still so warm, and John was starting to expect that he always ran at this temperature. His boy hadn’t protested once, so John figured that his touch was welcome. 

“The waters okay,” Jordan whispered, leaning back into John’s chest. John hummed, nipping at his neck as his lips curved into a smile that he pressed into Jordan’s skin.

“Get under the water, baby,” John told him, pulling the shower curtain further back and stepping in behind Jordan once he could. 

The spray that hit John was warm, but he wasn’t worried about getting himself wet, yet. Rather, he once again pressed up behind Jordan, though now he ran his hands down Jordan’s arms to link their fingers together eben as he pressed a kiss to the nape of his boy’s neck. He stayed like that for a minute, just holding him close, before he stepped back and grabbed the soap.

“I’m going to wash your body first, alright sweetheart?” John asked, less for approval and more to let Jordan know what to expect. 

He rubbed the bar of soap up between his hands, getting it full of suds before he gently pressed against Jordan’s back. He swept his hands over broad shoulders, trailing down the muscular length of his back. John rubbed where things felt tight, but he didn’t spend too much time massaging—though he did make a note to do that another time when he felt how much tension was sitting in Jordan’s lower back.

Rubbing further down, he quickly pressed between Jordan’s ass, though he let his hand linger when Jordan moaned and pushed back. John moved closer, breathing against Jordan’s neck as he continued to softly run through Jordan’s ass cheeks. He didn’t do anything more and soon enough he wrapped his arms around Jordan’s waist, pulling him out of the spray of water so he could rub soapy hands over his stomach. 

“What’s this?” John asked, trailing his hand down and grabbing Jordan's cock. “Are you hard again?”

Jordan moaned, leaning his head back onto John’s shoulder as his hands came up to grab onto John’s forearms for purchase. He chuckled, slowly stroking up Jordan’s cock and pulling the foreskin down to thumb over the head. Jordan shivered, his entire body shaking gently when John brought his other hand up to play with Jordan’s balls. 

“ _ Daddy _ ,” Jordan moaned, and the sound, the way he said the word, was intoxicating. 

“You aren’t going to get anything else out of me tonight,” John admitted, and he pushed down the bite of shame that wanted to well up in his throat. 

“That’s okay, Daddy, that’s okay. I—I need. Please, can you... _ Daddy _ ,” Jordan trailed off with a whine, his voice going high as his whole body shook. 

“Do you need more, baby?” John asked, tightening his grip around Jordan’s cock as he continued to slowly stroke up and down.

Jordan nodded, his fingernails digging into John’s skin. John’s mind was whirling, his mouth watering as he looked down at Jordan’s dick. The head was peeking out of its foreskin, flushed red and John wanted to  _ taste _ . He pushed Jordan forward to rinse off the remaining suds before he turned Jordan around by the hips.

His mind was spinning. He had never done this before, never done  _ anything _ like this before, and he couldn't help but feel nervous. His heart was all but beating out of his chest, even as he tried taking slow, deep breaths. He may have been inexperienced, but he  _ wanted _ , wanted to do this and to make Jordan feel good.

He would like to say that he fell gracefully to his knees, but he grabbed the edge of the bathtub and slowly lowered himself down. The porcelain of the rub was warm from the where the water had been hitting it, and John steadied himself with his hands on Jordan’s thighs.

“Daddy is going to suck your dick, okay baby?” John asked, looking up into Jordan’s wide eyes. His boy looked gorgeous from down here, flushed and panting above him. John’s heart tripped over itself, his belly growing warmer with his arousal even as his cock lay spent between his legs. 

He opened his mouth, slowly moving forward until the tip of Jordan’s cock was pressing against his bottom lip, and he flicked his tongue out to taste, catching the drop of precome that was there. John sucked his tongue back into his mouth, considering the taste in a way he hadn’t before. It wasn’t bad—salty, but not unpleasant—and he hummed. 

Moving forward slowly, he wrapped his lips around the head of Jordan’s dick. He made a mental note to keep his teeth tucked in—he could still remember just how much a nick of teeth could hurt—and he tried breathing in through his nose. He stuck out of his tongue, dragging it over the slit of Jordan’s cock and pushing against it, causing Jordan’ hips to twitch forward. Jordan was heavy on his tongue and warm in his mouth and John loved it.

He moved forward, taking as much of Jordan's dick into his mouth as he could. He had to pull off to breathe, but it didn't seem like Jordan cared, with the way he was moaning above him. John made sure to use his hand as well, stroking what he couldn't get into his mouth. Jordan was leaking precome, much like he had earlier, and it sat bitter on his tongue.

John swallowed, moaning as he took more into his mouth, doing his best to swallow down all the saliva he was producing. It wasn’t  _ easy _ , not with the way Jordan kept twitching his hips forward, but he couldn't bring himself to care. 

“H-holy shit, oh my god, Daddy.  _ Daddy  _ I’m not going to last, I-I’m not going to, not going to—” Jordan came with a shout, bowing over and grabbing John’s shoulders to keep himself upright. His release was warm, salty against John’s tongue and he swallowed, the texture sliding down his throat. 

John stood on shaky feet, using the edge of the tub to push himself up. He wrapped Jordan up in his arms the moment he could, ignoring the ache in his knees as he pulled Jordan against his chest. He was shaking, a little, but John shushed him, running a hand up and down his back until Jordan had calmed some.

“You did so good, baby. You were so good for me, so good,” John praised, lacing his words with as much appreciation he could muster. Jordan slumped into him, and John held them both up under the spray of the shower.

“Oh my god,” Jordan said, his voice rough. John didn’t move back, not yet, though he laid a hand along the back of his neck.

“Are you okay, baby?” he asked, and he tried his best to push down the growing worry. Jordan nodded against his shoulder, and John let out a long breath, satisfaction curling low in his gut when he realized that Jordan was just come drunk.

He kept them standing under the water for another long moment before Jordan pulled back. John looked at him with a small smile, running his hands up and down Jordan’s sides. 

“That was amazing,” Jordan said quietly. “Thank you, Daddy.”

“You’re so very welcoming, baby,” John told him, and he hummed into the kiss Jordan gave him, smiling when Jordan sucked his lower lip into his mouth.

He washed them off quickly after that, not wanting to linger too much longer. Jordan looked even sleepier than he had after their first round, and John kept a hand on his waist to keep him steady as he got them both washed off. 

Turning off the water, John steadied Jordan as they stepped out of the tub, dripping onto the mat as John grabbed their towels. He dried them both off, something  _ right _ settling in his chest as he got to take care of Jordan. It was natural, the instinct to bundle him up and keep him close. 

“Daddy, do you have something I can wear?” Jordan asked, once John had led them to his bedroom. He was still holding onto Jordan’s hand, and he blushed, dropping it. John was dealing with a whole new set of instincts, and he wasn't sure what do with them all. 

“Of course, baby,” John told him, walking over to his closet to keep himself from thinking too much about it all. “What do you normally sleep in? I’m a boxers man myself.”

“That’d be fine,” Jordan said, and John watched him drop his towel, handing over a pair of boxers for Jordan to pull on. He didn't look away as Jordan pulled them up, a thrill going through him when he realized he was  _ allowed _ to look.

John pulled on his own pair boxers, a smile stretching over his face when Jordan caught him staring. He didn’t look away, and rather he reached out a hand, pulling Jordan in for a series of sweet kisses. When he finally pulled back, Jordan’s face was settled into a soft smile, and John’s heart felt fit to burst. 

Depositing their towels in his laundry basket, he went to his usual side of the bed. He flipped the comforter down so Jordan knew he would be welcome, and he climbed in, stretching out with a satisfied hum. John still felt loose from his earlier orgasm, and a smile came to his lips easily. He felt pleasantly satisfied, and his chest went warm when he looked over at Jordan.

Jordan climbed onto the bed, though he settled on his side, sticking near the opposite edge. He was too far away and John frowned, rolling onto his side so he could throw an arm over Jordan’s waist. Once he did he dragged Jordan closer, happy when Jordan tucked himself into his chest. 

“How are you doing?” John asked, despite how his own eyes were beginning to feel heavy.

“I’m good, Daddy,” Jordan said, and John had to wonder just how far this whole thing would go. He knew he had research that he needed to do, hell, that they  _ both _ needed to do, but something settled in his chest with Jordan’s words.

“I’m so glad,” John said, running a hand up and down Jordan’s back. “You were so good for me, baby. I loved what we did tonight, did you?”

“Yeah,” Jordan said softly, his cheeks going pink. John made a questioning noise, though he waited quietly until Jordan continued. “I—I liked how it felt. With you t-taking care of me.”

John nodded, rolling onto his back and pulling Jordan with him. His boy cuddled into his chest, snuffling at John’s chest hair as he rubbed his face into against his skin. “I liked that too. Washing you down in the shower and making you feel good.”

Jordan made a deep, rumbling noise in his chest that John hadn’t even known was possible. It sounded like a purr, and John laughed quietly, pressing a long kiss to Jordan’s forehead to make sure he knew that John wasn’t making fun of him.

“We should talk about it later,” John said quietly, sleep tugging at the edges of his consciousness, Jordan warm and comfortable in his arms.

“I’d like that,” Jordan agreed, rubbing circles into John’s belly with his thumb. John didn't feel insecure about the softness there, not with the reverent way Jordan was touching him.

“I’ll drive you home on the way in, if that works?” John asked after a few moments of drifting in and out of sleep, happy when he remembered that his clock was set to go off in the morning, not his phone which was still somewhere downstairs.

“Okay,” Jordan said softly, hiding a yawn by turning his face further into John’s chest, his warm breath tickling John’s skin. 

Neither said anything, and John listened as Jordan’s breathing evened out and got slower. He held Jordan tighter against him, his heart unbearably full. He closed his eyes, content in a way he hadn’t felt in  _ years _ . Leaning down until his nose was buried in Jordan’s hair, he breathed in, pressing the three words he could feel down to his toes into Jordan’s temple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaand, we're done! i hope you enjoyed it :)

**Author's Note:**

> look at me, finishing a damn wip before posting it. updates will be posted on fridays! i hope you like this! 
> 
>  
> 
> [my tumblr!](https://lavender-lotion.tumblr.com/)


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